


Decorations

by CharWright5



Series: Sterek Christmas Bingo [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorating Contests, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Shopping, Established Relationship, Living Together, M/M, Post-Series, Star Wars Geeks In Love, Stiles hates their neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12536404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: "All this", of course, entailed a couple hundred yards of bushy garland and twice as many white lights--both strings and icicle style--a few dozen bows and wreaths, tiny dwarf trees to sit on either side of the front door and giant plastic candy canes to line the driveway. But Stiles had a plan, had envisioned it practically since they went house hunting in the spring and he laid eyes on what was now their new home--the first home either of them had ever owned. And when the self-appointed head of the neighborhood committee had introduced herself when they'd first moved in and spoke of all the events they had in the cul-de-sac--including a friendly house decorating contest at the holidays--Stiles knew it was his chance to get Derek to agree.The two of them were nothing if not highly competitive and the possibility of winning lit a fire behind the former alpha's eyes.





	Decorations

**Author's Note:**

> This is so self-indulgent I swear...
> 
> Um, written for the Sterek Christmas Bingo prompt "decorations" and featuring my own dumb headcanons of Derek secretly being a Star Wars fan as well as my own need to retaliate against my neighbors' blow-up Yoda by getting a blow-up Vader...one day...

"Stiles. Do you maybe think you're going a bit too far with all this shit?"

Stiles jerked to a stop in the middle of the aisle, the cart behind him not ramming his back only by the grace of werewolf reflexes. Turning, he narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend of four years, the love of his life, husband-to-be, and future baby daddy who had to be fucking joking.

There was no way he was serious.

Okay, so they'd had to grab a second cart and it was already fucking full. But whatever. Wasn't like they--or rather Derek--couldn't afford all of it. Besides it would all be worth it.

"You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to do this with me," Stiles pointed out, finger jabbing in Derek's direction, refusing to feel bad at the sight of a disapproving frown and an eye roll.

"I figured we'd put a few lights around the porch railings and a wreath on the door, maybe a bow on the mailbox. Not all this." He gestured to the two carts in a very Stiles-like manner, as if trying to prove how over the top all of it was, and Stiles just rolled his own eyes.

"All this", of course, entailed a couple hundred yards of bushy garland and twice as many white lights--both strings and icicle style--a few dozen bows and wreaths, tiny dwarf trees to sit on either side of the front door and giant plastic candy canes to line the driveway. But Stiles had a plan, had envisioned it practically since they went house hunting in the spring and he laid eyes on what was now their new home--the first home either of them had ever owned. And when the self-appointed head of the neighborhood committee had introduced herself when they'd first moved in and spoke of all the events they had in the cul-de-sac--including a friendly house decorating contest at the holidays--Stiles knew it was his chance to get Derek to agree.

The two of them were nothing if not highly competitive and the possibility of winning lit a fire behind the former alpha's eyes.

"All this," Stiles repeated, mimicking Derek's motions. "Is highly necessary." Derek opened his mouth to argue and Stiles simply huffed and cut him off. "You wanna win or not?"

"Yeah, I wanna win. I just don't want our house being one of those ridiculous over the top things that looks more tacky than festive."

"Our house will _not_ be tacky," Stiles insisted. "That's why we got the white lights instead of the colored ones."

The way Derek sighed out his name was an oft-heard sound but Stiles just ignored it as always, glancing around. Every year Home Depot cordoned off part of its outdoor area for Christmas items, trees for sale where flowers sat in the spring. The two of them had already picked their's up and trimmed it, sitting it in front of the bay window of their living room so anyone and everyone passing by could see it. Now it was a matter of the outside.

"We need an inflatable," he suddenly decided, pushing his cart forward so he could turn the corner and head inside the warehouse type building where the inflatables were kept.

"Stiles, no," Derek warned with a hint of a growl, following with a cart protesting under the weight they'd loaded it with.

"Stiles, _yes_!" he argued, causing a few heads to turn his way, a couple confused and weirded out sneers in response to the almost manic grin he wore.

"We don't need one," Derek continued to try and talk him out of it and Stiles almost felt bad for how futile it all was. "We have garland and lights for the porch railings and the bushes, bows for every window, lights to hang from every gutter, a giant ass wreath for the front door. We're _good_."

"We are not _good_ ," Stiles mocked as he made his way past the industrial heater hanging from the ceiling by the door, slowing as he reached the right aisle. Fifteen foot metal racks lined either side, fully blown inflatables on top to showcase what was available. Each shelf was lined with boxes for sale, warning signs to ask for an associate's help if needing something high up, and Stiles gaped up at them. He'd always wanted one, his dad constantly vetoing the idea, saying their tiny light up trees by the front door were enough, even though the tinsel was worn thin and half the lights were burnt out. The sheriff kept telling him that if Stiles wanted one, he'd have to get his own house and his own yard. Now he had those and dammit, he was getting a blow-up.

"That bitch Marcy has--"

"Please stop calling her that."

"--one of those giant snow globe ones. A snow globe, Derek," he repeated for emphasis, turning to find the wholly unimpressed look on his boyfriend's face. "A fucking _snow globe_ that has fucking fake snowflakes blowing around inside it like one of those cash grab machines on a game show." He waved his hands around as though mimicking the fake snow and Derek just pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We still don't ne--"

"Yes, we do." Deciding the discussion was over, Stiles turned to the available items, taking them all in.

There were the more traditional blow-ups at first: Santas, reindeer, nutcrackers, snowmen. There were a few jokey ones, Santa in a tub with rubber ducks, a gingerbread man in a giant cup of hot cocoa that acted as a hot tub--a little sick for Stiles' taste--Santa on a motorcycle. He caught sight of Santa in a helicopter with real rotating blades and he turned to find Derek already shaking his head.

Yeah, didn't quite feel like The One either.

Rounding the corner to the next aisle, they came across the licensed items: Minions making a snowman, Mickey and friends as carolers, Charlie Brown and Snoopy by a Christmas tree, Tigger and Winnie the Pooh in a sled being pulled by Eeyore. With a smirk, he pulled a box with the Grinch pictured on the side, holding it so his boyfriend could see.

"Look, Der! Found your twin!"

Derek scowled and flipped him off and Stiles returned the box with a cackle. Only to catch sight out the corner of his eye a very dangerous smirk forming on his boyfriend's face. Not good. Never good.

The older man slid a box of his own off a different shelf and showed it to Stiles, allowing him to see the display picture of the Bumble from _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ on the side.

"Found your twin, too," Derek quipped, smirk still in place and humorous glint in his eyes. "What was it you told Matt? It was a seasonal thing?"

Stiles glowered at the asshole, the expression deepening at the dimple-forming laugh Derek breathed out as he returned the box. Okay, so he'd once made a joke about being an abominable snowman, but still. "Yeah, being paralyzed by kanima venom isn't exactly a fun time I like to talk about," he grumbled, watching as Derek shrugged.

"I kinda enjoyed it," he replied and Stiles stared at him dubiously, Derek seesawing his head in concession. "Okay, I wasn't a fan of being out of control of my body and having already tempting jailbait land on me, but having you against me was kinda nice."

Stiles felt his cheeks heat up and a smile threaten to break out, his usual reaction whenever Derek said something complimentary or hinted at his feelings for the younger man. Four years and the novelty hadn't worn off and his heart still tripped over itself in response. And judging by the grin that formed on Derek's face, the werewolf picked up on all of it, pushing his cart past Stiles' and kissing him on the forehead as he passed.

Jerk.

He glared at the back of his boyfriend's head, opening his mouth to tell him off, only to be cut short by an announcement of "They have _Star Wars_ blow-ups."

Oh. Fuck. Yes.

"We're getting one!" Stiles decided, getting a snort and a "no shit" in response. Honestly, nothing had been greater or more of a surprise than finding out Derek was a closet _Star Wars_ fan, a fact Stiles discovered early in their relationship when he insisted they watch _A New Hope_ together and Derek had said the lines along with the characters.

It wasn't a coincidence that their first time having sex took place that same night.

Pushing his cart, he joined Derek at the other end of the aisle where, sure enough, countless _Star Wars_ inflatables were stacked on the shelves. Vader, Yoda, BB-8, C-3PO, R2-D2, a fucking Death Star. It was Geek Christmas Paradise and Stiles heard the heavenly chorus sound in his head.

"It won't go with the theme you wanted," Derek pointed out and Stiles waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

"Don't care. It's _Star Wars_."

Derek gave a crooked smile and they both reached for different boxes at the same time, turning to one another simultaneously.

"This one," they both said together, before wearing similar glowers.

Because Stiles had grabbed a giant Darth Vader holding a present in one hand and a lightsaber in the other, while Derek had grabbed a Yoda dressed like Santa, holding a lightsaber of his own. Trust the Zen Wolf to be on the Light Side of the Force and pick the most philosophical character out of them all.

"No," Stiles stated bluntly, glaring at his boyfriend's choice as Derek scowled at his.

"We're not putting Vader in our yard. The neighbors already judge us," Derek argued and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"That's because you wear a leather jacket and drive a Camaro."

"And because you refer to them as 'That Bitch Marcy' and 'That Dickhole George'."

Stiles shrugged. "I call 'em like I see 'em."

Another eye roll from Derek before he let out a huff. "No Dark Side on our front lawn. Please."

Yeah right.

But Stiles had to admit, the Yoda was pretty cool. As was the C-3PO, R2-D2, and Christmas tree combo saying "Peace Love and Droid", and the BB-8 in a Santa hat. But so was the stormtrooper holding a candy cane and the AT-AT covered in fake Christmas lights.

Looking up at Derek, he found determination in his eyes and tension in his jaw. Both of them were just as stubborn as the other, neither backing down. It was just good that they were both willing to compromise or there'd be countless unresolved fights between them.

Which...

"Light Side of the yard versus Dark Side?" he suggested. "We both get our blow-ups and they can battle or some shit."

"I'm sure the neighbors will love that," Derek quipped, smirking.

"Fuck the neighbors," Stiles stated with a grin, sliding his box under the cart then reaching for the AT-AT, despite warnings not to grab something off a shelf that high. "They can Force-kiss my ass."

Derek snorted in amusement, stowing his own inflatable in his own cart before checking out the rest. "It'll probably cost us the competition," he pointed out, eyebrow cocked, more curious about how Stiles felt over that than sharing his own stance on that very thing.

Stiles thought it over for a moment, AT-AT in hand, then gave a shrug. "It's _our_ yard and _our_ house and _our_ Christmas. I say we do what we want, neighbors and contests be damned."

Derek gave him a smile, a twinkle in his eye before he moved closer. Stiles turned to him, box aside, as hands moved to his hips. "Love you I do," Derek stated in what had to be the worst Yoda impression ever.

A groan forced its way out Stiles' chest as his head fell and Derek practically cackled at his own terrible-ness. "You're lucky you're cute."

"I'm lucky for a lot of reasons," Derek replied in what had become a typical cheesy move of his, kissing the top of Stiles' head.

Looking up, Stiles gave him an unamused glare he'd perfected through years of observing Derek giving him the same look, rolling his eyes. "You give me diabetes."

Another laugh. "You love it."

"Love you more, godawful impressions and cheesy one-liners and all."

The smile Derek wore made the skin around his eyes wrinkle and dimples form beneath a well-trimmed beard. "Love you, too," he stated, accepting the sweet peck Stiles pressed to his lips. "Now let's get some blow-ups so we can piss the neighbors off with our dorkiness."

"Yes!" Stiles agreed, throwing an arm in the air as the other still clutched the AT-AT box. He didn't care if they won the contest at this point. All that mattered was how much he and Derek loved their yard and the geeky way they decorated it.


End file.
